


Initiation

by Glassweir



Category: Worm (Web Serial Novel)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hostage Situations, Shadow Stalker is a horrible person, Superheroes, Supervillains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glassweir/pseuds/Glassweir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One misplaced investigation sees Shadow Stalker's probation revoked and her teammates turning against her.  With nowhere to turn but the help of a supervillain that she's repeatedly tried to kill, she makes the only choice she can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.1

**Author's Note:**

> You know, despite what others might think, I do like Shadow Stalker as a character. Certainly she's mentally unstable and a horrible person to boot, but that's never stopped a character from being good. 
> 
> I should note that I have no idea where I'm going with this.

There was an explosion behind Shadow Stalker as she shifted into her shadow state, not the typical kind of explosion, filled with fire and shrapnel that did her no harm, but a strange field of _light_. It passed through her, but she could feel it acting sluggishly on her brain, trying to draw her down with apathy, make her sit and wait for them to come for her.  
  
She turned, fired both of her crossbows at once. For someone watching, it would look like she had fired bolts of pure, gaseous shadow, passing through normal obstacles. It took precise timing to use them properly, but she’d gotten pretty good with practice.  
  
One bolt went wide, clattering into a wall beside a horrified-looking bystander. The other materialized halfway through Gallant’s leg, breaching his armor, and he screamed before going down, clutching at it.  
  
Shadow Stalker shifted back to normal form to kick him in the head, the steel toe of her boot impacting the thin armor covering his face, and he went down for the count. _Pathetic_. _Don’t know what Glory Girl sees in him_.  
  
The other Wards were closing-Clockblocker, Vista, Kid Win, and Aegis. Vista could divert her bolts, Clockblocker could freeze them regardless of whether they were in the shadow state. They’d found that out during testing. Aegis would just survive anything she tried. Even a headshot might not work.  
  
That left just one possibility. Shadow Stalker brought her crossbows to her opposite forearms and slammed them into the cartridges there. There was a click as the crossbows were automatically reloaded.  
  
She took aim deliberately, letting the Wards see what she was doing, and fired at Vista, who shrieked and frantically started to warp space in front of her, distorting the path. Clockblocker lunged in the path of one, managing to freeze it, and Aegis flew past Shadow Stalker in some vain attempt to catch the other.  
  
The arrow solidified before it reached Vista, but her power paid off and the shot only grazed her temple.  
  
Meanwhile, though, Shadow Stalker had gone after her real target. Kid Win’s laser pistol blew a hole in the center of her chest, but she kept pressing forwards, barely feeling it, reloading as she did so. Kid Win got a punch to the throat, his laser pistol tossed aside, and then Shadow Stalker grabbed him in a one-armed headlock, her other hand holding the business end of a crossbow to his throat.  
  
He struggled, but she pressed the crossbow bolt in closer, drawing blood, and he stilled, the unspoken message clear.  
  
Aegis stopped in his tracks. “Sophia,” he said, in his best ‘practiced hostage negotiator’ voice, the one he copied off of Gallant, “let him go.”  
  
Shadow Stalker made a show of considering it, wasted behind her mask. “Nah. I’ve got a better plan. Run home with your tails between your legs, and I don’t slit Kid Fail’s throat.”  
  
“Listen, Sophia, you don’t want to do that. You can still avoid the Birdcage. We’re just taking you in for breaking your probation.”  
  
“Let me guess,” Shadow Stalker said, “someone found my bolts. Piggot decided it was a sign straight out of heaven, and told you guys to bring me in so she can gloat about me going to juvie.”  
  
Aegis winced, and Shadow Stalker knew she had struck gold. She hadn’t believed what the girl on the phone had said, but she’d suited up just in case, and a good thing too. They’d opened up with Vista putting Clockblocker a step behind her, with Gallant backing them up. If she hadn’t been looking for it she would be in electrified handcuffs right now.  
  
“Look, Sophia, there’s no good options for you here. I’ll testify, say you weren’t in your right mind, and we can avoid a maximum security prison.”  
  
“That’s three times you’ve said my name in front of the cameras,” Shadow Stalker replied indicating a group of bystanders with a jerk of her head, several of whom had pulled out camera phones and were recording. “So, first off, fuck you for that. Second, I said _back off._ " She angled the hand that she wasn’t holding to Kid Win’s throat downwards, careful not to let him out of the headlock, and fired the crossbow.  
  
There was a _thunk_ followed by a shriek of pain from Kid Win, and Sophia grinned at the looks of horror on the faces of the Wards.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you think I wasn’t _fucking serious_? I’ve got lethal ammo here, you think I haven’t used it before? Belly wound like that, he’ll bleed out _really quick_ , so back off so I can leave him sobbing for his mommy on the ground and you can get him to Panacea.”  
  
“Sophia-“  
  
“Stop using my real name, _Carlos_.” Sophia enunciated that one loud and clear for the cameras. “And get-“  
  
Abruptly, the crossbow she’d been holding to Kid Win’s throat, which she’d moved a bit so that he didn’t cut his own throat while writhing in pain, was knocked aside by a blur of bright colors. In the same motion Battery planted a fist in Shadow Stalker’s gut, moving so fast that Shadow Stalker couldn’t go into her shadow state.  
  
Shadow Stalker almost doubled over, but she tried to remain on her feet, shoving Kid Win’s writhing form aside and lashing out at the Protectorate’s speedster with a crossbow-holding hand. _She needs to charge up. If I hit her now she won’t get the_ -  
  
An arm caught her throat as she moved forward, and Shadow Stalker was blown back, landing roughly on her side. A man wearing body armor with a visor over his head stood between her and Battery, his arm extended like some sort of wrestler. _Assault_. _Figures_.  
  
There was a crackling sound, and Shadow Stalker turned to see Dauntless leveling his spear at her, electricity arcing. Going into her shadow state would just make it worse. She gritted her teeth and braced herself, though she knew it would be useless. She’d seen Dauntless knock out dozens with one blast from that spear.  
  
An instant before the blast that would have sealed her fate, Dauntless’ arm jerked aside. The blast hit Assault, Battery, and Kid Win instead, causing them to spasm before the two adult heroes collapsed and Kid Win curled up on the ground, clutching at his injuries.  
  
Shadow Stalker caught a glimpse of Dauntless looking on in horror before a familiar darkness began to billow out into the area, concealing him and the Wards from view. Shadow Stalker went into her shadow state. She knew from experience that the darkness would dampen her powers, but it was better than nothing.  
  
The darkness surrounded her, isolating her from the outside world. Only a small hole above her revealed the cloudless sky and gave her light to see in.  
  
Grue emerged from the darkness, a tall, muscular figure wearing motorcycle leathers and a motorcycle helmet, within which she could make out a skull. Wisps of darkness circled around him.  
  
Shadow Stalker thought about shooting him, decided against it. If he was only here for revenge, he would have just covered her in darkness, or let the Protectorate get her. No, he was here for something else.  
  
She waited for Grue to speak, but he didn’t, just extended a hand to the prone Shadow Stalker. She hesitated a moment and took it. What did she have left to lose, anyway?  
  
Grue helped her to her feet, and turned, the darkness parting around him and moving to fill the space he’d left. Shadow Stalker followed as they moved at a run. “The Wards?  Dauntless?”  
  
“Being taken care of,” Grue replied in his strange, echoing voice.  
  
“Heard you started running with a team,” Shadow Stalker nodded to herself.  
  
“Five people, counting you.” Grue turned to look at her, calm, authoritative. He was the team leader, reports had said. He was establishing his authority here.  
  
Well, she’d worked with worse, and she’d fought Grue. He fought like a predator, engulfing his enemies in darkness and dismantling them in hand to hand combat.  Much though she hated him for the humiliating defeats that he had handed her, she respected him for that.  She’d worked with _worse_ , and if she decided against it, well, they had to leave her unwatched sometime.  
  
“Sure,” she nodded.  
  
“Welcome to the Undersiders.” Grue’s darkness parted in front of them. They’d come a long way, several blocks from the original fight at least. An unmarked minivan with tinted windows stood in front of them. “Get in; get changed if you need it. I’ll take you to meet the rest.”


	2. 1.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the team!

The first thing that Sophia did was lose her cell phone.  

It was Wards issue, high-tech stuff that wouldn’t be on the open market for at least another year, and it cost more than the average family made in a year.  It was probably also trackable. 

She placed it, along with her civilian phone, under the wheels of the car.  Grue coated them in his darkness, which she recalled from her experience blocked most transmissions, and nodded approvingly.  She hated him a little bit more for that, acting like she needed his approval, but she didn’t have a choice.

The next thing that she lost was her mask.  It was a caricature of a woman’s face, scowling sternly.  She hated it, had preferred her spray-painted hockey mask, but it had been one of _many_ tiny irritations that she’d accepted in order to avoid prison.  It didn’t matter now, and her face would be on the news by tonight anyway.  The Protectorate didn’t take people quitting kindly.  They wouldn’t bother to cover up any evidence.

Grue observed silently as she placed her mask facedown on a nearby trashcan. 

Sophia didn’t buy any of that crap the therapists handed out about how the mask helped dissociate the hero from the person, but putting the mask down seemed _important_ to her, a sense of finality.

Maybe it symbolized that she had nowhere else to go.  All her bridges were burned, and she was reliant on the charity of someone that she’d tried to kill more than once. 

She got in the van, sliding into the passenger seat and shrugging on the sweater that Grue passed her over her costume, shedding her cape to pool around her.  Beside her, Grue got in as well, removing his helmet and sliding off the skull mask he wore underneath it.  Sophia stared without any shame or hesitation.  It was leveling the playing field in a small sense.  She shouldn’t have been as _grateful_ for that as she felt, she was no weakling to take comfort in equality. 

Grue was black, and he looked a couple of years older than her, maybe college age at most, his hair buzzed short and a lantern jaw.  Attractive, Sophia supposed, though she’d never really paid attention to that sort of thing when she had other things to worry about, like hiding her kills and dealing with stuff at school.

Without waiting for the darkness to fade, Grue started the engine and began to drive.  Sophia imagined that she could hear the muffled _crunch_ of her phones being ground underneath the car’s wheels.

Grue drove in starts and stops, moving the van through the slowly dissipating darkness until he was able to rejoin the normal flow of traffic.  It gave Sophia time to think. 

Now that they were out of immediate danger, she was beginning to realize just how much she’d lost.  No more access to the Wards technology.  No more hanging out with Emma, one of the only people she’d ever met that thought like she did.  She couldn’t even go home to her useless mom and brother, take time to unwind by messing with them. 

All because of what?  One stupid mistake?  Leaving the lethal bolts out one time, where a random inspection could find them? 

Sophia could feel tears building in the corners of her eyes, but she ruthlessly banished them, wiping them away under the guise of massaging her forehead before Grue could see them.  How fucking _stupid_ , crying over something like this.  She hadn’t cried in years, and she wasn’t about to start now.

She caught Grue looking at her out of the corner of her eye.  He didn’t say anything, turning his eyes back on the road after a moment. 

She felt a tiny spike of gratitude for that, quickly muffled.  She’d tried to kill Grue more than once, ever since their first humiliating fight, where she’d found out that his power partly nullified hers, making her solid enough that she could be hit.  She’d made it her mission to drive him out of the city, and never succeeded.  Funny, to think that she had that failure to thank for her not being in a holding cell now.

She liked to think that she understood him, a little, one predator to another.  Maybe there was a little respect there, too.  His power wasn’t that good for direct combat, but he made it work with physical strength and skill, like she did. 

And because she understood him, she got the reason he was doing this.  He didn’t like her, probably.  But he knew she was good, and so he figured she would be useful.  It was sort of a businesslike mentality. 

Sophia was glad that she got that, that Grue was only doing this because he respected her skill.  She didn’t think she could stand being dependent on someone’s _pity._

She saw Grue glance up, and she did too.  Floating above the traffic, scanning the cars, was Aegis.  His rust and silver costume was stained a brighter red with his own blood, ripped and torn in places, and he was covered in deep marks, but Sophia knew that all of those would be superficial with his power.

“Don’t do anything,” Grue murmured to her, not taking his eyes off Aegis.  “The van’s got tinted windows and he’s probably got at least some eye damage from the beating Bitch gave him.  He’s bait, nothing else.”

“Standard,” Sophia agreed, but she fingered her crossbow under her seat.  From a distance, they wouldn’t look like anything but a couple of people in a van, but the PRT might be doing random stop-and-searches or inspecting close up, and they’d _definitely_ know her face.

They passed straight under Aegis, and he didn’t notice.  Sophia avoided sighing in relief. 

Finally, they pulled up in a secluded alleyway near the docks, built over by construction decades ago.  There were three people waiting for them, two girls and a guy, all in costume.

Sophia got out of the van, shrugging off the sweater and donning her cape.  Grue fit his helmet back on, though he didn’t bother with the mask. 

“Shadow Stalker, these are Bitch, Regent, and Tattletale,” Grue introduced them with a wave of his hand.  Shadow Stalker nodded, taking them in.

Bitch, she recognized.  The PRT files called her Hellhound, real name Rachel…something.  Her power let her turn dogs into monsters that she directed to attack people.  She was also a murderer, having killed people during her trigger event.  Maybe someone worth getting to know, or maybe she was just some pathetic runaway. 

Bitch wore street clothes, and a cheap mask in the shape of a dog’s head.  Three dogs were sat beside her, alert and ready to pounce. 

Regent and Tattletale she didn’t know.  Regent was dressed like he’d stepped out of a renaissance faire, complete with a cheap-looking scepter and a smiling mask that hid his face except for a mop of dark, curly hair, and Tattletale wore a costume with purple, black and white splotches, along with a domino mask that didn’t do anything to hide her light skin and blonde hair.  She was also smirking as she looked at Shadow Stalker. 

Shadow Stalker was acutely conscious of her lack of a mask. 

“She’s clean,” Tattletale reported to Grue after a moment of looking her over.  “Or at least if it’s a trap she doesn’t know about it.” 

“What’s that, empathy?”  Was Tattletale like Gallant, one of those assholes that could read people’s emotions and thought that let them understand? 

“Nah, not quite.”  Tattletale smirked.  “My power’s way better.  Lets me tell all _sorts_ of stuff, like when the PRT’s going to try and quietly get rid of a Ward that’s crossed the line one too many times.”

“The phone call,” Shadow Stalker realized.  “That was you?”

“Yeah.”  Tattletale replied cheerfully.  “I’ve got a little in at the Protectorate’s headquarters.  Not much, but you were the talk of the day.  Dumb of them, really.  They underestimated you, thought the Wards would be enough if they took you by surprise.  I decided to level the playing field a little, see what you could do.” 

Shadow Stalker nodded.  So that had been an initiation, a test.  It made sense on some level.  They needed to see if she’d be ruthless enough to go against her old team.

“I know you like the no-nonsense approach, so we’ll skip straight to the benefits, if that’s all right with Grue?”  Tattletale looked at Grue, and Grue nodded.  “Okay.  Two thousand dollars a month, basic pay.  Five times what you got as a Ward, and no PRT restrictions on how to spend it.  You get a say in what jobs we take, and our usual haul per job is between ten and thirty-five thousand, split between us.  I’ve got a line with some people that can set you up with a fake ID and bank account so you can actually spend it, too.”

Shadow Stalker nodded.  She’d never cared much about money, but that was a pretty impressive sum, and she could do a lot with it.  The fake ID would be useful too, unless she wanted to spend all her time in costume. 

“But that’s fringe benefits for you, right?”  Tattletale smirked, and Sophia was reminded, briefly, of Emma.  She had that same viciousness beneath the surface, letting slip little barbs.  “The real benefit?  No PRT telling you what to do.  I mean, we’d prefer you avoid killing superheroes or cops, but beyond that, we’ve got no restrictions, nothing to hold us down.  People like us are at the top of the food chain, and there aren’t any suits to tell us otherwise.”

Shadow Stalker frowned, not wanting to admit how attractive that sounded.  “You’re talking benefits.  What about the problems?  No way you’re offering this without strings attached.”

“Well,” Tattletale began, “like I said, you get a say, but if the rest of us disagree you go along with it.  We take votes on whether to take specific jobs, and other important stuff.”

“Like new members,” Regent interjected.  “You got in three to one.  Bitch doesn’t like you that much.”

Hellhound just grunted, looking up to give Shadow Stalker a glare. 

Shadow Stalker thought about it.  Being bound to the group’s vote sounded a _lot_ like being restricted by the PRT, but these were villains, predators.  She knew that from fighting Grue and just by _talking_ to Tattletale.  It’d probably be better than the PRT’s restrictions.  She’d known that Grue would be in charge anyway, and having a say was better than she’d expected.  But something else had caught in her mind.

“With the way you’re talking about taking jobs, it sounds like you’re hiring yourselves out,” Shadow Stalker said slowly.  “So either you’re mercenaries or you’ve got a…patron?  Shit, is that the right word?” 

Tattletale nodded.  “Yeah.  We get paid to stick together as a team, but we also get to turn down jobs, no cost.”

Shadow Stalker thought about a little more, and shrugged.  It was probably the best she was going to get.  No other villains in the city would take her even if she wanted to join the likes of Lung or Faultline, and they wouldn’t give her nearly this much freedom.  “Fine.  I’m in.” 

Regent gave a cheerful whoop, and Tattletale’s smirk broadened, while Grue crossed his arms.  Hellhound just kept glaring. 

Shadow Stalker turned to her.  “You’ve got a problem with me, Hellhound?”

“ _Bitch.”_   Hellhound corrected her. 

“Fine.  You got a problem, _Bitch_?”

“Your power’s weak.  Not worth splitting the take.”  Bitch growled, standing, her hand on the collar of one of her dogs. 

“You think my power’s fucking _weak_?”  Sophia growled back.  “I’ll show you just how weak it is.  Come on.”  She gave Bitch a ‘come at me’ gesture.  “The others held you back, right?  You want to hit me.  Give it a try.  Then I hit back.”

“Hey-“ Regent interjected, but Tattletale shushed him.  She was still grinning.

Bitch used her power on the dog, and it swelled, bone spikes growing and protruding from its limbs, becoming a nightmarish parody of a dog.  Not even pausing for it to finish, she charged.


	3. 1.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a fight to establish dominance, as well as team bonding.

**Initiation 1.3**  
  
Shadow Stalker had to admit, Bitch wasn’t a bad brawler. She hit hard, but with control, clearly experienced. Her first punch sunk into Shadow Stalker’s intangible form and stayed there, keeping Shadow Stalker from rematerializing and hitting back. She had to drift back using the momentum of her dodge, giving ground to Bitch before she could solidify and throw a punch.   
  
Bitch accepted the punch, pushing forward so that she took it on her upper arm instead of any of the soft, more vulnerable spots that Sophia was aiming for, and took advantage of the moment of physical contact to swing another blow at Sophia’s head, which she barely avoided by going into her shadow state. Bitch then stepped back, whistling.   
  
Sophia had no time to dodge before a snarling monstrosity the size of a truck barreled through her.   
  
It _hurt_ as she pulled herself back together, her body reforming out of scattered particles. Her shadow state wasn’t totally intangible, more of a gaseous state that could pass through thin surfaces, and running into something like that wasn’t pleasant. Enough damage like that and she’d collapse out of sheer exhaustion.  
  
Shadow Stalker went into solid state briefly, felt her heart start beating again as she gasped in a breath of air, then pushed herself backward before immediately going into her shadow state again. The momentum was enough to let her get over the dog-monster as it came around for another pass, and she solidified against the wall of the alleyway before pushing off again. She could feel herself recovering. So long as she didn’t take too many hits like that, she’d be okay.  
  
Above her, she could see Grue had expanded his power over the alleyway, muffling the sound of their fight. The alleyway had been plunged into darkness, lit faintly by a few electric lights.  
  
Below her, Bitch was using her power on the other two dogs, making them grow as the other one growled up at Shadow Stalker. This was going to be tricky.  
  
Shadow Stalker drew her crossbows, aimed at the dogs. Bitch could replace them later, and it was her fault for picking this fight in the first place, anyway.   
  
The shadowy bolts passed through where the dog’s brains should have been. No effect. The dogs just kept growling and barking at Shadow Stalker as she returned down to the ground, solidifying briefly for the landing. Maybe they were like that one species, whatever it was, you could chop off its head and it wouldn’t die for a while? Shadow Stalker was pretty sure she’d heard that somewhere.  
  
The dogs charged her again.  
  
No, not _charged_. They encircled her, cutting off her escape routes, before one, and only one, bounded forward with a snarl. Pack tactics. Shadow Stalker couldn’t dodge without running into one of the circling dogs.  
  
Instead, she jumped, going into her shadow state as the dog charged her, only for the dog to _jump_ mid-charge, catching Shadow Stalker and dispersing her body.   
  
Shadow Stalker rematerialized on the ground, clutching at her chest and breathing heavily. She felt like she’d just run two marathons back to back.   
  
Around her, the dogs circled, growling. Shadow Stalker glanced over at Grue, Tattletale, and Regent. Grue had his arms crossed, motionless except for the movement of his darkness, Regent was leaning against the side of the alley, clearly disinterested, and Tattletale was smirking. She’d get no help from that quarter. This was a fight where she had to prove her worth on her own.  
  
Bitch yelled another order, and the dog closest to her charged Shadow Stalker. Nothing for it, then, Shadow Stalker decided as she dragged herself to her feet. When the dog charged, so did she.   
  
She went into her shadow state almost immediately after she started running, moments before she would have hit the dog. She felt it tear through her, her form disrupted, but with conscious effort she maintained her shadow state, continuing to move once the dog had passed with almost the same momentum as before.   
  
As she approached Bitch, Shadow Stalker went solid again, feeling the rush as the mass of her body abruptly reappeared. She crashed down onto Bitch in a tangle of limbs.  
  
Bitch wasted no time in hitting back. Shadow Stalker took a hit to the side before she could go into her shadow state, and a frenzied kick passed through her, disrupting her body a little more. She grabbed for her crossbow, went solid again, straddling Bitch, and pressed the point of it to Bitch’s chest, digging it in a little just to drive the point home.  
  
“I win,” Shadow Stalker hissed. Around her, the three dogs growled menacingly, baring their teeth and pawing the ground as they prepared to pounce the moment their master was safe.   
  
“Enough,” Grue’s strange, echoing voice spoke. His hand pressed down on Shadow Stalker’s shoulder. She glared up at him. He stared back calmly, darkness swirling around his shoulders. “You’ve made your point. Don’t make me make mine.”   
  
Shadow Stalker hesitated for a moment before removing the crossbow. She could have turned and shot him, then and there, but there’d be no point. “Fine.” She stood, and the dogs growling intensified.   
  
“Bitch,” Grue ordered the girl on the ground, “Call them off.” Bitch glowered at him for a moment before whistling and barking a few words, causing the dogs to back down.   
  
Shadow Stalker reached down and grabbed her by her shirt, hauling to her feet. It was harder than she’d expected-Bitch was heavy, lots of muscle, and Sophia was tired, but she managed. “Good fight. Stay the fuck out of my way and we’ll get along fine.”  
  
Shadow Stalker thought for a moment that Bitch would take another swing at her, but she just grunted and ambled over to tend to her dogs. Shadow Stalker watched her back as she yanked the bolts out of the dogs as they shrank back to normal size. Tough, antisocial, and totally fucking crazy. Yeah, they’d get along just fine.   
  
“So, now that the hazing’s done, what do you think?” Shadow Stalker turned to see Tattletale smiling at her. An actual smile, not a smirk, though there was a hint of smugness there.   
  
“You stopped them from interfering,” Shadow Stalker noted, thinking. Could it be that _Tattletale_ was the leader of the group, the one that had turned Grue from tough but small-time parahuman muscle into the leader of a supervillain gang? It would make sense-she had some sort of Thinker power, Shadow Stalker was pretty sure, and Thinkers tended to be leaders, if they had a power that let them strategize.   
  
“Figured it’d be better to let you fight it out. It’s part of how she thinks. She won’t challenge your place on the team, now, not without good reason.”  
  
“Your power tell you that?”   
  
“It’s versatile.” Tattletale shrugged. “Since you’re wondering, my power’s information. It lets me take a situation and get hard info out of it, no research needed. I can figure out passwords and people, like how I knew you’d be a good fit for the team.”  
  
“You hacked the Protectorate?”  
  
“The PRT,” Tattletale corrected, “They’ve got surveillance on the Protectorate’s base. I caught a nice little conversation between Miss Militia and Triumph about you using lethal bolts instead of the boring kind. Neither of them likes you very much.”  
  
“Not surprised,” Shadow Stalker muttered. Triumph was annoying, had been even when he was team leader for the Wards. He pushed into people’s business, acted all concerned about their welfare and their private lives. Gallant was worse, since he actually _knew_ when people were emotionally vulnerable and tried to interfere no matter how well it was hidden, but he’d at least given up eventually. Triumph was _persistent_ , and the exasperated tone he adopted when he was talking to Shadow Stalker grated on her nerves.   
  
Miss Militia, the second in command for the Protectorate, was worse. Her power made her deadly, powerful and a force to be reckoned with, but the preaching speeches she gave to the Wards about moderation had quickly made Sophia lose respect for her. Predator or not, some people she just couldn’t stand.  
  
Not that it mattered now.  
  
Tattletale touched her arm. “Hey.” Her voice was almost gentle. “C’mon. We’ll show you the evil lair. _And_ we got you a present, a welcome to the team sort of thing.” She reached into a backpack that she had slung across her shoulder, and withdrew a hockey mask, painted gray. The same kind that she’d used before she had joined the Protectorate.   
  
Shadow Stalker accepted the mask, fitting it back onto her face with some gratitude. She could get to like Tattletale. “No expense spared, I see.”   
  
Tattletale just smirked and guided Shadow Stalker back to the van. They got in the back, this time, sat close together. Bitch’s dogs piled in, clustered themselves around her. Regent sat a distance away from Bitch, across from them. He removed his mask with a flourish, revealing a pale-skinned boy about Sophia’s age. Pretty, in a sense, but not Sophia’s type.   
  
“What’s your power?” Shadow Stalker asked as Grue started the car and began to drive. “I don’t recognize you.”  
  
Regent grinned at her, and snapped his fingers. To her right, Shadow Stalker saw Tattletale, who’d been watching with her hand on her chin, jerk back just in time to avoid slapping herself in the face. _Nice power. Low-level, but pretty versatile if he knows how to use it._ And it showed her something about Tattletale, too, that she could tell what Regent was about to do.  
  
“PRT’s probably going to end up classifying him as a Blaster and low-level Master,” Tattletale said, as if she hadn’t just lost control of her body. “Anyway, introductions. We already know your name. I’m Lisa, that’s Rachel,” she glanced over at Bitch, who was stubbornly ignoring them.  
  
“Alec,” Regent introduced himself. “Great to have another crazy person on the team. Us sane people were outnumbering Bitch.”   
  
“I’m not crazy enough for you?” Tattletale pouted, and Regent laughed.   
  
“Nah, you’re not cool enough. Shadow Stalker’s crazy-awesome, like, remember when Grue came back with an arrow poking out of his stomach? Great stuff. I’m sure everyone’ll get along great.” The words sounded sarcastic, but Regent’s eyes didn’t show it, and he kept on smiling.   
  
“Ruined a nine-hundred dollar couch,” Tattletale confided in Shadow Stalker, who grinned behind her mask. That had been a good night. For a while she’d thought that she’d managed to kill Grue, that he had bled out somewhere and she’d be fucked when the PRT found the body, but he’d turned out to be fine. _Good thing he’s tough. For a lot of reasons._ Shadow Stalker leaned back in her seat, letting the grin stay on her face. It felt good, to be joking about this stuff. She’d never been able to talk about it with the other Wards, since she wasn’t supposed to be shooting to kill, but with these guys she could let loose a little. They had the right _mindset_. Not friends, maybe, but definitely worth working with.  
  
“Yeah,” Shadow Stalker replied to Regent, “We’ll get along _just_ fine.”


	4. 1.4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Undersiders are very domestic, and Sophia settles in.

The Undersiders were based somewhere in the Docks, probably the north end, Sophia realized as Lisa opened the door, exposing her to the familiar sights of urban decay that she’d often see on patrol.  It made sense-there were a lot of abandoned buildings they could use, and even the Protectorate didn’t encourage patrols here; they were too concerned with the tourist traps on the Boardwalk or the softer, civilized areas.  Shadow Stalker had practically made the area her personal hunting grounds, back before Armsmaster had come after her with his damned electrified halberd, and she’d been strong-armed into the underaged PR parade that was the Wards.

She recognized the building, even.  A red brick structure that took up half the block.  Old, abandoned factory, closed like so many others.  She’d passed it by a few times on her patrols-not worth breaking and entering into random buildings when there was always easy prey.

Lisa indicated the building with a wave of her hand.  “Home sweet home.”

“Hiding in plain sight?”  Sophia nodded, approving.  “Makes sense.  I used to patrol around here.”

“I know.”  Lisa grinned back at her before she undid the chain lock on the door and pushed it open, revealing an empty, cobwebbed factory floor.  “Actual base is in the loft.”  As Lisa gestured for her to follow, Sophia glanced back.  Bitch was helping her dogs out of the van, while Alec was following them.  Grue was still in the front seat of the van, probably waiting for it to get unloaded so that he could go and park it elsewhere.

The loft had a pretty lived-in look.  There were a couple of couches and a large table at the nearest part, with what looked like a kitchen at the far end, with dishes and empty boxes of pizza piled up on the table.  In front of the couches was a _massive_ plasma screen TV, bigger than anything Sophia’s family had ever been able to afford, with a pair of speakers that were each easily the size of their television at home (and Sophia ended _that_ train of thought right then and there, the last thing she needed was to be thinking about her useless family, how she’d never see them again, at a time like this). 

Lisa must have caught her staring, because she grinned.  “Told you this job pays better than the Wards.”

“Yeah,” Sophia nodded, surprised at herself for staring-she wasn’t really into _stuff_.  Avaricious, that was the word.  She didn’t do that.  But this place…

It made sense, she guessed.  This place _advertised_ wealth, not in the clean, shiny way that the Wards HQ, with its high-tech computers and its own big televisions, did.  The message that it sent was more of a “we have money that we aren’t supposed to have” as opposed to the more _official_ look the Wards had.  It was messier, uneven, _natural_.  Not meant to project a false image to the world.

“Alec, Rachel, and I have rooms in between the kitchen and the living room,” Lisa explained, indicating a set of doors on each side of a smaller hall.  “Rachel’s dogs have their own room, and we’ve got an extra room where you can stay if you want-storage closet, though we don’t have much use for it.”

“Grue doesn’t stay here?”

“He’s got his own place.  He comes back here to bleed on stuff when you shoot him, and to hang out, but…” Lisa shrugged.  “ _Guys_.  You know?  He’s stubborn.”

“I sort of resent you lumping us into the same category, there,” Alec noted, with the calm and amused tone that Sophia was starting to think of as his default. 

“Deal with it.”  Lisa smirked over at Alec before returning her attention to Sophia.  “So, stay?”

“It’s not like I’ve got anyplace else to crash.”  Sophia shrugged.  “Might as well take the place with the nice TV.”

“It _is_ a nice TV,” Alec agreed, stepping over one of the half-dozen small devices that surrounded the television to pat it lightly.  “Had to pay for it myself.  Brian’s got other stuff he’s spending money on, Rachel doesn’t care, and Lisa spends all _her_ money on clothes and computers.” 

“Not even close to all of it,” Lisa retorted, a grin on her face.  “I’ve got a nice little nest egg saved up.”

There was a clattering sound, the clicking of paws on concrete, as Bitch brought her dogs up the stairs.  She regarded Alec, Lisa, and Sophia with a look Sophia couldn’t decipher before she guided them back through the loft.  One of them paused to nudge Alec’s hand, passing by where he had laid himself sprawled across the couch, and he rewarded the dog with a scratch on the head. 

“Must be a lot of effort, keeping the dogs fed,” Sophia commented. 

“It’s worth it, and they’re not too much trouble.  Rachel’s really good with dogs.”  Alec shrugged.  He’d arranged himself so that he took up the entire couch, limbs outstretched and feet dangling just barely over the edge.  He kicked off his shoes, which fell to the floor haphazardly. 

Whatever he had, it inspired some exhaustion in Sophia, or perhaps that was just the weight of the day’s events, pushing down on her.  Sophia sat down on the other couch, spreading her cape around herself and setting her mask down on the coffee table, uncaring of how messed up her hair had gotten.  She unbuckled her boots and pushed them to the side before putting her sock-covered feet up and glancing over to Regent, who obligingly raised the remote and turned on the television.

Sophia let herself relax a little as the screen started, showing some inane music channel that started to play through the latest teen craze, something pink and yellow with a lot of feathers.  She figured that she could trust the Undersiders not to knife her in her sleep at least for the time being.

She felt oddly weightless, though not at all like her shadow state.  Instead she felt like she was _drifting_ , but without motion, as she let the sounds on the television coalesce into a pleasant babble.  All her connections had been abruptly severed, and she was freely floating.  Free of the obligations that society had chained her down with, at least for the moment. 

Sophia was snapped out of it by a sudden feeling of cold on her cheek.  She turned her head a little to the left to see a can of soda, held by Lisa.  Sophia accepted the offering, opening it with a hiss of released air and setting it down on the coffee table as Lisa sat down beside her, balancing a laptop on her knee.

“Here,” Lisa said, turning the laptop so that Sophia could see.  The image on the screen was marked by a date and timestamp, a security camera feed.  And on it were the two biggest heroes in Brockton Bay. 

Armsmaster.  Regarded by pretty much everyone as the Protectorate’s single best Tinker apart from Dragon, and the leader of the local Protectorate team.  His helmet was on as he worked on the massive halberd that was laid out in front of him, panels pulled back to expose wiring and other, stranger things that Sophia couldn’t name.  One hand worked at the wiring while another typed notes into a computer terminal attached to his workbench.  He gave the impression that none of his attention was on the other hero in the room.

Dauntless was pacing in front of the workbench, his spear-a rod of metal, glowing with suppressed power-dragging against the ground.  His golden, Roman-style helmet was shaking from side to side, but Sophia caught a hint of a snarl as he briefly turned enough for the camera to catch a glimpse of the slit that exposed his lower face.  The Protectorate’s great golden boy, upset, off-balance. 

“Funny thing is,” Lisa explained, “I wouldn’t be able to do this, if the PRT didn’t want to always be watching the Protectorate.  I can’t do this for the Wards, since their cameras are wired, and they only go inside the PRT HQ, but the ones in the Protectorate base out on the bay?”  Lisa pressed a key, turning the sound up. 

 _“-in the hospital, Panacea says he’ll live but it was close.  He could have_ died, _Armsmaster.  You put the Wards up against a killer, a killer they’d_ hold back _against, because they knew her, because she was their teammate.  I caught just a glimpse, before Grue showed up.  Shadow Stalker is a monster, and if things had gone differently someone would be dead right now.”_

 _“We all run that risk,”_ Armsmaster replied, not looking up.  _“It was unfortunate that she encountered the Wards.  She deviated from her standard patterns, took an inefficient route.”_  

 _“They shouldn’t have been out there at all.  We’ve got two speedsters, we have_ me. _We could have caught up to her without the Wards to delay her.”_

_“That would have been even less effective.  Fewer bodies means less coverage.  She could have escaped cleanly.”_

_“She_ did _escape cleanly!”_   Dauntless burst out.  _“Hell, she was in full costume by the time the Wards found her.  And I doubt you’ve got any means of finding her, or you’d have brought her in yourself.”_

 _“She’ll turn up.  The Undersiders have made a bold play here, they’ll want to keep that momentum.  At that point we can bring in not just our rogue Ward but an entire team of kid villains.”_ Armsmaster glanced over at Dauntless.  _“You’re questioning my command decisions.  Director Piggot disagrees with your assessment.”_

Dauntless replied, but Sophia didn’t hear him as Lisa turned down the sound, frowning.  From his gesticulations, it must have been pretty impressive. 

“Fuck,” Lisa said, glaring at the screen.

“What?”  Sophia glanced at her in confusion.  She’d seemed happy when she had showed Sophia the feed, the enjoyment of watching people react to suffering and humiliation.  Something Sophia knew well, from school if not in her cape life.

“That moment where Dauntless mentioned you were in costume, and Armsmaster didn’t say anything?  Pretty sure he’s figured out the cameras are compromised, and that’s how I was able to warn you.  He’s probably going to start feeding out false information when he’s in the Protectorate base, try to lure us into a trap.”

“Can he follow that back to you?”  _Maybe I’d be better off on my own after all, if Armsmaster can find us._

“Maybe, if he brought in outside support or reported it, he might get a few of my decoys.  But he won’t.”  Lisa smirked, a toothy sneer that stretched across her face.  “He’s an arrogant motherfucker.  Wants to do this himself, get the rep boost.  And it’ll look a lot better for him if we go somewhere and get taken down by him alone than if we go down in our base.  Fewer cameras here, for one thing.”

Sophia nodded.  “Makes sense.”  Armsmaster was one of the top heroes in the country, but not one that people thought about often if they weren’t local, like they did Chevalier, Myrddin or the Triumvirate.  It made sense that he’d want to change that, get his name on the news as having lured out and taken down an entire team of villains on his own.

Lisa turned up the volume to catch the tail end of Dauntless’ rant.  _“-and the media is tearing us to fucking_ shreds _.  You heard what they’re saying, about what she was doing to her classmates?  That Barnes girl-“_

 _“I am aware.  The PRT is handling it.”_   Armsmaster waved his hand in dismissal, and Sophia could see Dauntless fuming, clenching his free hand into a fist.

 _Barnes_ , Sophia thought.  What was Emma up to?  She reached over and grabbed the remote out of Alec’s hand, to a yelp of surprise from him.  _He shouldn’t be letting his guard down around me so fast.  Idiot,_ Sophia thought, though the insult didn’t have much bite. 

The Undersiders’ television had _way_ more channels than the one Emma’s family had.  Sophia had to sort through a dozen before she got to the local news.

Predictably, her face was plastered in the corner, alongside the mask that the Protectorate had given her.  A news ticker ran below, reiterating that Sophia Hess was to be considered armed and dangerous if seen. 

On the screen itself, though, was Emma Barnes, Sophia’s best friend, talking to reporters.

She looked disheveled, her hair unsecured and messed up, her clothing rumpled.  At least, she _wanted_ people to think that she looked disheveled.  Sophia knew how Emma looked when she was panicked, exhausted, scared.  This wasn’t it.  An act?

 _“-and so she made me help her,”_ Emma was saying, _“nothing illegal, not like they’re saying she was doing, but…I knew her reputation, you know?  She scared me, had me and my dad help her out when she got hurt or needed a lookout.”_

 _“You’re saying she threatened you?”_   The reporter knew a leading statement when he saw one.  _“Even after she joined the Wards?”_

Emma bit her lip artfully, and remained silent for a calculated moment.  _“I-I’m sorry.  I can’t…”_

 _She’s milking this for all it’s worth,_ Sophia realized.  _A moment of fame.  Enough to give her modeling career a big boost.  And all she needs to do is lie, and lie, and lie, about me.  Bitch._

There was a cracking sound , and Sophia looked down at her hand, holding the remote in a white-knuckled grip.  The plastic casing had cracked.  Sophia set it back down on the arm of the sofa, her thoughts in turmoil.

She shouldn’t have felt as betrayed as she did. 

Emma was a predator in her mindset.  Like a shark, she’d scented blood in the water and she’d tear apart one of her own kind to get what she wanted.  Sophia should have seen this coming, she knew.  She _knew_.  But somehow that didn’t make it suck any less.  

There was a burning sensation in the corner of her eye, a pressure in her chest, making it hard to breathe.  Sophia ignored it.  

Lisa reached over, and put her hand over Sophia’s.  “Hey.  If it makes you feel any better?  She’s being _really dumb_.” 

“What?”  Shaken out of her reverie, Sophia looked over to the light-skinned girl. 

“She’s going up against the PRT.  Insinuating that they aren’t doing their jobs right.  They’re going to crush her for that, just running damage control.  Losing a fight, they can handle; losing a Ward, happens more often than you’d think, though not usually so public.  Attacking their rep in that way, challenging them on the PR field?  She’ll be a casualty barely anyone knew existed.”

The thought did make Sophia feel a little better, against all odds.  A little vindictive surge of pleasure, at the thought of seeing Emma brought low.

 _Things change fast_ , Sophia mused, watching Emma on the television.  The image changed back to the reporter as the interview wrapped up, before shifting to a familiar house.  “My family.”

Lisa winced.  “Yeah.  They’re probably going to be going after them a lot, and the PRT isn’t going to be doing much of anything to help there.  I can grab you a blank cell phone if you want to call them.”

“I…”  Sophia considered.  Did she want to call them?  Her mom and her brother, Terry, were morons.  Her youngest sister she’d always felt a little dissociated with, never really made the effort to play with her or anything.  The kid was four, anyway. 

On the screen, Sophia’s mother shooed away the camera, glaring at the reporter.  Sophia caught a glimpse of her face, streaked with tears.  Terry helped her into the house, his face blank and shaken.  Sophia felt weird, seeing that.  A twist in her stomach, almost _guilty_.  Which was ridiculous.  She had nothing to feel guilty about.

“No.”  No, she wasn’t in the mood for her mom’s whining or Terry’s hand-wringing.  And she didn’t know what she’d say, anyway. 

Lisa nodded, her hand still over Sophia’s.  “Okay.”

Alec reclaimed the remote, returning the channel to his dumb music show.  The three of them watched, Lisa and Alec occasionally trading barbs about his taste in music, until the show ended, and the sun went down.


End file.
